The first time Yuto called Hina from Paris, it was late in the evening back in Tokyo.
He hesitated for a full five minutes before hitting the call button, heart thudding in his chest. What if she didn't want to talk to him? But when the line connected and her familiar voice said, "Hello?" in a sleepy tone, all those worries melted away.
"Hina?" he said softly.
There was a pause. Then—"Yuyu?"
Yuto smiled instantly. No one else in the world called him that.
"Sorry I took a while to get in touch with you. We were getting used to the new living environment here" he murmured.
"I understand," she huffed. "It's not an easy one."
"Anyway," he said quickly. "I emailed. You didn't reply much."
"I didn't know what to say." Her voice grew quieter. "You left."
"I know," Yuto said, guilt tightening his chest. "But I'm still here. I still think about you. Every day."
The silence on the other end turned softer, warmer. Then she said, "Do you want to hear about junior high?"
"Yeah. I do."
She told him everything. How she joined the archery club because she liked the uniforms, how she almost got detention for kicking a boy who teased her height, and how their dojo instructor still scolded her for sloppy footwork. Yuto listened to every word, imagining her expressions, her quick temper, her laugh.
They began to talk more, sometimes through short emails, sometimes through long video calls.
But time, as it does, moved faster than they realized. By the end of Yuto's second year in Paris, he finally told her something he'd been dreading.
"Hey," he said during one of their late-night calls, the screen flickering with dim lamp light behind him. "I need to tell you something."
Hina immediately sat up straighter. "What is it?"
"Mum got a job offer here. A really good one. So… we're staying longer. Maybe for a few more years."
"Oh."
He watched her expression shift through the screen, bright eyes dimming just slightly, smile faltering but quickly recovering. "That's great. For Auntie Sora. I mean. That's… great."
"Hina—"
"It's fine," she said too quickly. "Really."
But Emi noticed. Later that night, she found Hina curled up in bed, her phone beside her, eyes unusually quiet.
"Yuto told you?" Emi asked gently.
Hina nodded. "He's staying longer."
"You miss him," Emi said. Hina didn't reply.
After a moment, Emi smiled and brushed her daughter's hair back. "I miss Sora too. How about we go visit them during the summer break?"
Hina blinked. "Really?"
"Why not? I could use a little Paris in my life. And I think you could use your best friend back, if only for a while."
*****
Later that night, as Hina slept, Emi picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number. It was almost midnight in Tokyo, but she knew Sora would still be up.
"Emi," Sora answered, her voice bright even through the sleepy fuzz of the international call. "Is everything okay?"
Emi smiled softly. "Everything's fine. But Hina… she looked heartbroken tonight."
There was a pause on the other end before Sora sighed. "Yuto told her, didn't he?"
"Yes. About staying longer in Paris." Emi leaned back against her headboard. "She took it better than I expected. No tears. No tantrums. Just that quiet sort of sadness… the kind that lingers."
"She's always been like that," Sora said gently. "Fiery on the outside, soft as mochi on the inside. I worry about them."
"They care about each other more than they understand," Emi murmured. "Hina would never admit it, but Yuto's been in her heart since they could walk. And now with all this distance…"
"I know," Sora said. "It's hard on Yuto too. He pretends he's adjusting just fine, but whenever he gets off the phone with her, he stares at nothing for a while. It's like he's caught between two worlds."
"Then maybe it's time we bring those worlds a little closer." Emi's tone lightened. "I've been thinking… I haven't had a good vacation in years. And I miss my best friend terribly."
Sora laughed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I'm booking us tickets tomorrow," Emi said decisively. "I'll bring Hina over during the summer break. Let the kids sort themselves out a little. And we can have tea in Montmartre like two retired queens."
"You're serious?" Sora asked, clearly surprised but pleased.
"As serious as your son's silent brooding," Emi chuckled. "And don't pretend you haven't missed me too."
Sora let out a soft laugh. "I always do. Hurry up and come. Yuto will be so happy—and honestly, so will I."
"You'll owe me cake and coffee every day," Emi added playfully. "And I want to see the dress designs you've been hiding from the world."
"Deal."
They ended the call without another word. Neither of them said it aloud, but both were hoping a reunion might help their children find their way back to each other.
*****
They arrived in Paris in early July, the air warm and golden with late afternoon sun.
Yuto was waiting at the airport with his parents. He had grown taller, his jaw more defined, his expression steady as he watched the arrivals.
She froze when she saw him. For a moment, she just stood there, clutching the strap of her backpack.
Yuto noticed her instantly. His gaze swept over her once, lingering on the silver ribbon bracelet still tied neatly around her wrist. He smiled.
"You still wear it," he said.
"I said I wouldn't take it off," she mumbled, suddenly too shy to meet his eyes.
They didn't hug. They didn't say much at first. Their reunion was filled with awkward smiles and too many glances, like they were meeting for the first time all over again. Yuto, naturally quiet, didn't press. And Hina, for once in her life, didn't fill the silence with chatter.
But slowly, over the days that followed, the space between them began to shrink.
At the Louvre, Hina stood too long in front of a marble statue, until Yuto came and whispered, "Don't stare too hard, he's not as good-looking as me."
She elbowed him. "You wish." But her cheeks were pink.
At a small café, they sat side by side, sharing pastries. When cream smudged the corner of her lip, Yuto reached out with a napkin and wiped it away gently.
"You still eat like a kid," he teased.
"And you still act like my grandpa," she shot back.
They laughed.
On the final night, they took a walk along the Seine, city lights reflected in the slow-moving water.
"You're different," she said softly.
"So are you," Yuto replied. "But you're still… Hina."
She smiled. "And you're still my Yuyu."
They stopped walking. She turned to him, and he looked down at her, taller now, eyes steady.
"I'm glad I came," she whispered. "It was starting to feel like I imagined you."
"I'm real," he said. "I never stopped being real."
And before they parted, at the airport, as the announcement for boarding echoed in the background, Hina hugged him for the first time in two years.
"Take care of yourself, Yuyu," she whispered into his chest. "I'll be waiting again."
Yuto closed his eyes, holding her just a little longer.
"I'll come back," he said. "To you."